Pull me out from inside
by SoContagious
Summary: He was trying to burn the scent of the dewy grass and chilly mist, laced with the lilacscent which was so purely hers, into his mind for all eternity. movie fiction: set during the second proposal. Darcy's POV


**Title:** PULL ME OUT FROM INSIDE

**Genre:** Jane Austen's „Pride and Prejudice"

**Summary:** Movie-fiction, set during the wonderful 2nd proposal scene between Darcy and Elizabeth on the misty meadow as the sun is about to come up.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything. Elizabeth and Darcy are the creations of Jane Austen's mind. This piece has been on my harddrive for ages now, I've written it more than one year ago. The lyrics I used in this story are from "Colorblind" by the Counting Crows.

_I am colour blind,_

_Coffee black and egg white_

_I am ready, I am ready_

The first rays of sunlight came up from behind the hills and caught in her chocolate curls, giving her an almost ethereal glow.

Beauty.

When had been the last time he had been this captured by a woman? Had he ever been? In this moment, with the lush green grass framing her fragile, dark form he was certain he had not, not ever, nor would he ever be again.

Striding towards her, the fresh, cool morning dew clinging to the leather surface of his boots and his wildly beating heart trying to keep up with his reeling mind, he _knew_. It was a feeling that had taken hold of his body and soul a long time ago, but only now he had allowed letting it break to the surface. In this moment he _knew_ and it was an all-consuming, fire-fuelling, heartstring-pulling knowledge, threatening to burn him alive if he tried to keep it buried within any longer.

With the rising sun painting the sky pink and purple and the last white stars fading in the young morning sky, Fitzwilliam Darcy knew this would be his one life-altering moment.

She stared at him, with those impossibly large dark eyes that seemed to hold the secret of the universe in one bat of her eyelid and sheer endless possibility in the next. Right now, they had the colour of warm maple syrup and were so full of emotion that it made his breath catch in his throat - a melange of hesitation, regret, longing and something else, which he couldn't put his finger on.

A curl of her dark hair freed itself from her loose braid and danced in front of her eyes and he found himself physically aching to reach out and brush the strand back behind her ear again. To always be the one to brush her hair back in place in all the days and nights to come.

He was lost, like a moth to a flame he kept coming back to her and he knew he always would. For the first time in his still young life he found himself believing in fate. Only chance could have brought them together only to push them apart again and again in the cruellest of ways. Only chance had led him out of bed before sunrise this morning and sent him wandering the fields, only to let him stumble upon her shivering form in the mist.

She had washed over him a long time ago like some intoxicatingly sweet perfume and ever since he had not been able to rid himself of her again.

Her voice broke his line of thoughts and for a moment, he was startled. She sounded so different: gone were the dripping sarcasm and the constant frustration that usually lined her voice, whenever she was addressing him. Her voice was quivering with emotion, something he could very much relate to and the warmth and honesty she spoke sent shivers down his spine.

"I couldn't sleep."

"Nor I."

The words had already left his mouth, before he even realized it. He had blurted them out, desperately trying to explain his unexpected appearance at such an early hour. Never before had he cared about what other people thought of him, never before had he felt the desire – the urgent need – to defend himself. With her it was so different. She was perfect, because in his eyes true perfection had to be imperfect.

Her bright eyes and her quick mind had enchanted him the first time they had met, but now in this very moment on this crisp and humid spring morning, she was nothing short of an angelic figure that had somehow fallen from grace and into his arms.

His very own epiphany.

Looking back, he still had trouble piecing together show what next words had been spoken between them. His mind had been too clouded for everything but her. He knew he succeeded in stammering something about his aunt, though his tongue had felt knotted and he had inwardly winced at every sentence spoken about something that both of them knew, wasn't the reason they were both here now.

This felt like standing on a cliff and peering into the endless depths beneath. Like twirling yourself round and round in a never ending circle until you felt the world tilt at it hinges and gravity failed apply to you anymore. This felt like being on the verge of something big, something ground-breaking and life-altering.

This felt like everything he ever wanted and never dared to admit to himself. This felt like everything he never allowed himself to hope for. This felt strangely and intoxicatingly _real_. Like something you would spend your life regretting if you did not dare to seize the moment.

"You must now. Surely, you must now… it was all for you." This voice, his own voice, was almost unrecognizable to him as he heard himself speak those words. He was almost startled by the gentleness of it, a gentleness that only she managed to bring out in him. This voice, he realized, he had stored inside of him all his life, waiting to be used to speak one name in the world, one single word. _Elizabeth_.

Then his lips parted and words, heavy and sticky as molasses tumbled out ungracefully in big globs. "…it has taught me to hope as I had scarcely allowed myself before." He paused for a moment, trying to brace himself for what was yet to come.

"If your feelings are what they were last April tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed. But one word from you will silence me forever." Those last confessions came out barely above a whisper. He felt inadequate, _this_ felt inadequate. Standing here before her, watching her gaze at him with those tired, bright eyes and that pale half-smile dancing across the corners of her mouth, he had never felt so small and so strong at the same time before.

"If however your feelings have changed… I will have to tell you: You have bewitched me body and soul. And I love…" he felt himself choking on the misty morning air, his own emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

"I love…"

He was drowning. He could feel it like a vice clamping over his heart and throat and he knew, this was what it must feel like to be lost at sea with icy saltwater waves crashing down upon you. His own heart was fluttering and struggling, pumping his own blood which was growing thick with anguish and fear of rejection, yet even thicker with love for her.

"I love you."

There it was, his entire being laid bare with those three simple words.

He was asking her to be his weakness, from this day on for all eternity. She had already scratched his surface so long ago, now he was pleading her look beneath – pleading her to find him. The realhim. He was asking her to enter this cage he had built himself, to enter his home, his chamber, his bed, his mind and his dreams. To possess him.

"And never wish to be parted from you from this day on."

He stared at her, dizzy with emotion and shivering with anxiousness and the cool, misty morning air ruffling his hair and clothes. All he could hear in this moment was the wild beat of his own heart and the rushing of blood in his ears. Her eyes were shining with a bright spark, one which he longed to touch and call it his. He had not realized he was holding his breath, until he saw the edges of her pink lips slightly curve upwards into the faintest and most beautiful smile he had ever seen. The realization felt like a jump into cold water – she was smiling at him.

FOR him.

The air escaped his lungs as he watched her take a tentative step towards him and for the first time he was noticing that she was shaking just as much as him.

He was tired and exhausted. He felt like loving her, wanting her - pining after her for all these months - had robbed him of all his energy.

Her eyes were so impossibly large, so impossibly dark that it made him weak in the knees. If he had to choose one single thing which he wanted to do for the rest of his life, he would probably ask for the chance to eternally gaze at her face. He would spend years trying to map the outlines of her face and grazing the soft surface of her skin with his fingertips. He would loose himself in those liquid orbs of gold and chocolate, framed by hundreds of delicate lashes which he promised himself to count over and over again. He would wrap those coconut locks of hers around his fingers, only to watch them uncurl again, velvety soft and smelling purely of her. His Elizabeth. His Lizzy.

He would inhale her scent and let it wash over him, letting it enter his mind and making him feel whole again. And he would kiss her lips. Those soft, plumb pink lips that always stood slightly apart, whenever she was wondering and which had the most wonderful tendency to pout whenever something was troubling her. He would let his fingers feel their silky texture and let his eyes wander about the delicious wetness glistening on them, whenever her small pink tongue had sneaked out to moisten her lips.

He would gaze in wonder and incandescent happiness when she would smile at him, her lips looking slightly redder than usual and the tiniest bit swollen from too many ardent kisses and affections from his side.

She was standing so close to him by now that he could feel the heat radiating from her body and it made the hairs on his arms stand straight up. A jolt of electricity coursed through him, when he felt her hand brush against the back of his before grasping it gently. He knew he was looking at her dumbfounded, eyes wide and mouth slightly apart, but in this moment he did not care.

"Well then…"

Two simple words uttered almost breathlessly and forever burned in his memory together with the image of her, aglow with the first strong golden rays of sunshine being caught in her dark hair, warming her pale complexion.

His heart was hammering in his chest again when she slowly lifted his hand and brought it to her lips, securing it with her other one. He could only stare at her, her eyes fixed firmly upon his, so full of determination and sparkle.

He was sure for the split-second her lips first made contact with the skin of his hand, the world around them had ceased to exist and it was just them left, with no noise and or movement surrounding them. Her eye-lashes were fluttering as she brushed her lips against his knuckles in butterfly-kisses, stroking the back of his hand with her fingertips at the same time.

The gesture almost brought tears to his eyes and when she looked up at him again, he could see that her eyes were shining glassily. A feeling of inexplicable warmth began spreading through his entire body and something he had not allowed himself for the past few months was now rightfully taking its claim of his soul again – hope.

"You're hands are cold…" she whispered to him, grasping them more firmly in hers as if trying to pour her own body-heat into him, attempting to warm him. He could only stare at her, transfixed and overwhelmed, trying to wrap his mind around what was happening between them. Had she really…?

She was gazing at him. Eyes bright and pupils dilated, shining with emotion and expectation unlike anything he had seen in her before. He had imagined this moment for so long, but now he found himself helplessly mesmerized.

Slowly, as if in a dream, he lifted his right hand to brush his cool fingertips against her soft cheek. Her skin felt warm to the touch and only now did he notice the flush of her face, which almost made her radiate from the inside out with a warmth he now found himself engulfed in.

He closed his eyes, willing his heart to slow its beating and his body to stop trembling. The sun began creeping across the hills, filling the misty meadow with a golden glow and heat, similar to the one kindled in his heart and soul by her kiss moments ago. With his eyes closed the world beyond his lids became reduced to a deep sunny orange. A colour he would forever relate to her. His Eliza.

Almost drowsily with love, relief and tiredness he leaned his head closer to her, breathing in deeply. He was trying to burn the scent of the dewy grass and chilly mist, laced with the lilac-scent which was so purely hers, into his mind for all eternity.

He wanted to remember what change and love smelled like.

His entire body relaxed when his forehead finally touched hers. Her warm breath tickled his chin and the sigh escaping her lips sounded like music to his ears. He felt in the way she grasped his hand in hers and rested her chin on the back of it how all the tension, which had stored up over months, was now finally pouring out of her like the water of a freshly-melted spring stream.

It was her soft chuckle which started him out of his reverie again many moments later. Opening his eyes he found her looking up at him, her eyes teasing and her mouth curled upwards in a sly, but warm smile. He cocked his eyebrow playfully at her, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb.

"May I inquire the reason for your bemusement, Miss Elizabeth?"

She smiled at him again, one hand straying from their clasped ones and delicately brushed over the lapels of his long over-coat. Avoiding his eyes and with a blush creeping over her cheeks again, she briefly played with a button, not realizing the intimacy of the gesture, which however was not lost on him.

"You whispered my name."

He must have been staring at her incredulously, for when she looked at him again, she laughed. "A few moments ago, when we were… you whispered my name. You almost breathed it." She whispered with twinkling eyes and a mischievous smile stretched over her face. He could feel the heat creeping up his face. He couldn't believe he had lost control.

He looked at her again when he felt something brush softly against his jaw, only to find her gazing at him, her hand outstretched and her smooth fingertips ghosting over his skin. It was like she was seeing him for the first time in her life and he swallowed heavily. The tenderness of her touch made his heart do somersaults in his chest.

When he had first looked into her eyes all those months ago, she had inspired him to feel. From their first dance together she had inspired him to love and ever since had continued to fill his senses until all he could see, hear, smell and feel was her and all he longed to attain was a taste of her lips. Now she was standing in front of him and every far-fetched fantasy had suddenly moved within his reach.

He could see forever from here.

He should have known it from the start, when his heart had had skipped its first beat during her entrance at Netherfield, her skirt hems muddy and her open hair flowing over her shoulders. He should have known it from the spark of electricity coursing through him, when he handed her into the carriage. He should have known it from the moment, when he had left in Bingley's carriage, staring outside, wondering if she had wasted a single thought upon him, when he had already long lost count of the number of times she had crossed his mind. He should have known.

He felt a hand brush against the fabric of his coat again and noticed that she was watching him, a small crease forming on her forehead. "Stop that." she said in a low voice, shaking her head slightly. He was puzzled by her solemn countenance and beginning to worry their moment of solace had shattered.

"Stop what?" he asked, confusion lining his voice and his noble manners escaping him momentarily while asking this rather blunt question.

"Dwelling on the past."

The look he gave her did nothing to disguise his surprise at her correct assumption and she laughed breathily at his wide eyed expression. She took a step closer to him and lifted one of her hands to his hair, brushing a wild lock out of his eyes. He closed his eyes momentarily at the contact, revelling in the sensation of her skin upon his. He felt her hand stray from his forehead, brushing over his temple and cheekbones in a soft, fascinated caress.

She was so dark, so deep, so heartbreakingly open.

A small, almost rueful smile was dancing across her lips and he marvelled at the image of the young woman before him. Never had anyone looked at him with such a complete, soul-warming trust like she was doing now. Her fingertips were still ghosting over his profile, exploring him, memorising him.

Another smile darted over her face and she momentarily cupped his head, bringing him closer to her again – so close that he could feel the heat of her breath on his face. "Did you never believe I was thinking about you the same way you did?" she asked him in a whisper and his eyes fluttered shut once more to drink in what she was telling him.

"Did you believe you were the only one with trembling hands and a pounding heart the first time we danced together? That you were the only one who felt a starburst of energy when you touched my hand for the first time that day, as you handed me into the carriage? I was still shaking even after Netherfield had disappeared from sight."

He was taking deep breaths, awash in the emotions her confessions stirred in his soul, letting smiling voice pour over him.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy, I am so in love with you."

They gazed at each other again, her hand still lingering on his face and he thought he might burst with the sheer love and devotion he was feeling for this woman and the excitement of seeing these same emotions reflected in her. If he could have, he would have danced among the stars for all the joy those few simple words had brought into his heart.

One of her loose dark curls was dancing in the mild morning breeze, tickling her nose, but she was far too caught up in the moment to notice. Almost not believing he was now actually allowed to do so, he slowly reached out and caught the stray lock between his fingers, before gently tucking it behind her ear. His hand didn't return back to his side however, but instead opted to gently trace the shell of her ear with his fingertip.

A lazy, playful smile spread across her face and she momentarily lowered her eyelids, clearly cherishing and enjoying his touch. Slowly, he brought himself closer to her again, his fingertips tenderly tracing a line from her ear over her cheek to her chin.

Her lashes fluttered as she lifted her gaze towards his eyes again. He searched her face for any sign of hesitancy or discomfort at the intimacy of the moment, but he found nothing. Instead he saw her cheeks colouring faintly again and her lips parted slightly in expectation, her brown eyes fixed firmly upon his, never wavering.

He was so close to her, he could feel her breath on his cheeks and the tips of their noses touched in the most intimate contact he had every experienced. Gently rubbing his nose against hers, he was encouraged by the giddy chuckle she was giving him for his playfulness. He felt the corners of his mouth curving upwards and with the gentlest of smiles etched upon his face, he lowered his lips on hers.

For many moments there was just that. Together for long moments they stood not even kissing, just holding on to one another with their lips touching. Butterflies were dancing in his stomach and if it was still possible at all, his heart picked up another beat or two, racing fiercely in his chest. He felt her trembling against his lips and breathed in deeply, breathed her in, trying to absorb every single detail of this moment.

Gently, he began moving his lips, bestowing her mouth with butterfly kisses before he felt her hands on his face, grasping him gently and pulling him even closer. The kiss was tender and breathless and felt like they were falling through the air faster and faster, and he could do nothing but hold on tight, because her eyelashes swept his skin and her hands buried themselves in his unruly mop of dark hair.

The stillness burst in that moment. Their eyes locked and he knew that he would never forget what she looked like in this moment. Unguarded and fragile, wetness clinging to her cheeks. She was pleading him within her dark brown eyes to keep her. And he accepted as he leant down to kiss her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders; her fingers splayed, and held him to her. Keeping him. He knew together they would figure this out, this miracle called love.

"You're the last thing my heart expected." he whispered to her, his voice breathy and his face beaming and he could feel she was smiling too.

_I am ready, I am ready_

_I am ready, I am fine_

_I am … fine._

**THE END**


End file.
